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Adaron Wokenstone
"By the strength of me faith, and me hammer! I shall bring honor to my clan. May the Light guide me path into the darkness, so that I might bring light... where none shines..." - Adaron Wokenstone History Autumn's morning. The story of Adaron Wokenstone begins on November the 1st, of Year -31, on a brisk autumn morning, in the outskirts of Thelsamar. A small ivy covered house sits among the rocky green landscape, a baby cries out his first breath, just then a breeze picks up and carries the cries away. Cheers of joy and sighs of relief greet the new dwarf child, as his parents prayers are finally answered. "Adaron!, our crimson haired boy!, our gift from the Light, he has arrived! the clan shall live on..." Clan Wokenstone, a minuscule spec of a clan, once proud and as numerous as the pine cones of a tree. Has been reduced to less then a dozen over the last several generations due to war. The only child of Dordel and Jagen of clan Wokenstone. Adaron was born into a situation that would have tremendous weight of purposed placed upon his shoulders. Clan Wokenstone had fallen on hard times having been shattered to rumble during the War of the Three Hammers. Having committed to the Bronzebeard clan, Clan Wokenstone based in Thelsamar had been in the heat of battle between the Dark Iron and Wildhammer clans, leaving Clan Wokenstone in ruins. "Stubborn as a stone, the clan shall not fade to history...we shall wake from this nightmare someday and return to glory" A pebble among boulders. Being from a small clan many other larger clans ignored or bullied Adaron, having few friends and family these interactions would prove important in his development. As some may give in and resign themselves to their place and status. Adaron would be forged into a determined young dwarf, that would not back down even against impossible odds. Growing up he often spent time alone climbing the highest mountains collecting peacebloom and praying to the ancestors for wisdom and strength. On a autumn day while praying for guidance, a path was revealed to him of what he should do to reclaim the honor of his clan. "The world tis a big place, and if ye want to see it, best climb up high and look about." '' When he became of age, many thought he would join the priesthood and live out his days in a monastery studying. Having grown up a bit of a loner and bookworm many thought he would not join the army or mines but instead grow old alone and Wokenstone would finally die out. However Adaron had other ideas, he felt his skills in potions and his faith in the light would guide his path to glory. To prove to his kin Clan Wokenstone was not weak, he declared he would become a Paladin of the Silver Hand and forge a new path in blood and steel if need be. 'A path forged in blood and steel.' His father Dordel having been a warrior for most of his life began to train his son in the ways of hammer and shield. At first other clans believed Adaron weak compared to warriors of the region and laughed at him, thinking he should stick to his books. Unperturbed he focused on defensive stances and mitigation, knowing that if he couldn't overpower his enemies he would outlast them. Combining his new defensive skills and healing magics he developed through his faith. Adaron quickly became know as "The Thistle of Thelsamar," a warrior of light that would not yield. ''"By the sweat of me brow, I shall prove them all wrong.." The Thistle of Thelsamar. Having tested his hammer, and bested those that laughed at him previously, Adaron knew his path was set. Training now with both his father Dordel and distant cousin Dungra, Adaron was becoming to be seen as the hope of his small clan, and knew these were but his first steps. Now in his late twenties "The Thistle of Thelsamar" was just beginning to theorize on how he should begin his journey when a new player entered the fray. "It's as if his armor strikes back at me with each blow, what magics are these that protect this Adaron Wokenstone?" A world beyond the mountains. As the Dark Portal opened a new threat poured into the world, bringing death and destruction wherever it went. The orcs, they proved to be more then a match for the human kingdom of Stormwind leveling it to the ground, and ending the First War. Having heard stories of this new threat in the human kingdoms Adaron knew his time would come to bring honor and glory to his clan. If he were to encounter this new threat someday he would be able to prove to all the dwarves of Khoz Modan his clan was relevant. A second chance at glory. With the Second war beginning, Adaron wished to join the fray after hearing news of war again. The Ironforge Guard was recruiting and he wished to fight along side his father and bring honor to the clan. Dordel knowing his son was on track to become a great warrior, knew his skills would be seen by his superiors as acceptable and made a hard decision. He looked his son square in the eyes knowing his next words would crush him and said. "No lad, your time will come, but you must focus on your training. This won't be the last war, I can tell ya that much. Your duty is to live long and have a family someday. Yer still but a pup in my eyes and there will be other chances." Respecting his fathers words, Adaron did something he had never done before, he yielded. Determined to still do his part. Adaron spent every waking moment for the next several days collecting herbs among the pines of Thelsamar. He would spend the next several weeks sweating over brewing pots and mixing bowls of various powders to provide his kinsmen with something to keep them safe. Bags bursting with potions and elixirs Dordel and Dungra left Thelsamar for Ironforge, leaving behind Adaron and Jagen. As the war continued Adaron became worried that his father would not return, but instead be among the dead or dying. Letters from the front would pour in and Adaron would read each one sent home from Dorgel and Dungra. After several months of eagerly awaiting news, the worst letter possible arrived, This letter was from Dungra, and stated that Dorgel had been killed near one of the fallen dwarven keeps alongside many other kinsmen. His death left Adaron devastated and shaken having lost the only person who truly believed in him. Time passed and the war ended, but Adaron had little interest in it anymore. He mechanically made potions and healed the wounded that returned home alongside his mother, but the drive was out of him. "My father Dordel now walks the halls of the ancestors. his light snuffed out by these orcs...a grudge against them I shall always have.." - Adaron Wokenstone Moving on..and a dream fulfilled. '' One day while gathering herbs in the forest a voice much like his deceased fathers seemed to call to him across the wind. It spoke to him directly and my name, alone he would not recall if it was real or imaginary but it broke him of his melancholy. Stating that his destiny was not to pick flowers and brew potions, his duty was to the clan and reclaiming its glory. Renewed by this mysterious voice, Adaron redoubled his efforts and focused on his training by pouring everything he had into it. After a couple more years his training concluded and he was raised to the rank of full Paladin within the Order of the Silver Hand, he felt his first step to achieving his dream had been fulfilled. He stood at the alter of Ironforge as the Tabard was placed over his head. Cheers of Joy and sighs of relief were let out as his destiny was finally set before him. His only regret was that his father could not witness it yet he felt in his heart, that perhaps he did in a way. After receiving his Knighthood, he was officially given the title of "The Knight of Thistles" for his work in potions and healing, as well as his focus on defensive stances. After the ceremony concluded he felt it was time to leave Khoz Modan for a time and hone his skills as a healer in the world. His first task would be to visit the Human Kingdoms of Stormwind and Lordaeron as new rumors being spread about "The Cult of the Damned." His secondary mission on his journey was he hoped to find a wife and begin a family as his father had wished. ''Missed opportunities and a new land. '' Having said his goodbyes to his family and few friends. Adaron finally began his journey to the human realms as part of his call to arms from the Order of the Silver Hand to investigate this new Cult of the Damned. Being so far away his summons had reached his home in Thelsamar much later then others. It did not help matters that the letter sent to his home was not delivered in person, and instead was left on his porch as he was off in the woods gathering herbs and mediating for several weeks. This set Adaron back much later then others when it came to finally journeying out of the realm of Khoz Modan to the realms of Lordaeron. As he rushed to his destination with all due haste he learned that the city of Stratholme had already been purged by the Prince of Lordaeron, Arthas....for fear of the citizens having contracted some Plague which turned them into the undead. "Betrayer.... the Light's justice will judge thee and my hammer shall be the instrument of its vengeance!" Upon finally reaching the purged city of Stratholme there was not much else to do but help any surviving refugees flee. After days of healing the wounded and curing the sick he was exhausted, he was not mentally prepared for the horrors that were unleashed in these lands. This being his real combat he understood his fathers hesitation to allow him to join the fight during the second war. Adaron was able to find other members of the Order of the Silver Hand and learned that Arthas had fled taking his army with him to Northrend for reasons unknown. Adaron learned that Uther Lightbringer was near and had sent orders to the King for the Princes armies to be recalled from Northrend. When Arthas returned he would be put on trail for his crimes and face judgement. ''Sorrow at Southshore. With Arthas in Northrend the main duties of the Order of the Silver Hand became helping the refugees of Stratholme and containing the new undead threat in the region. Having trained his whole life to fight against orcs, trolls and ogres. Adaron was not prepared for this change right way, through his training he had known about the undead but had not realized the threat could possibly ever become this great so quickly.... "The dead do not rest...the light fades from these here lands...hope...is lost..." Exorcising the fallen people of Lordaeron was no task he found glory in, he did not feel like the hero he thought he should by finally doing his duty as a paladin. This war with the undead was beginning to take a heavy toll on Adaron's mind and his dreams of a redeemed Clan Wokenstone began to slip away. As he continued this exhausting work over several weeks and months, cleansing the lands alongside his fellow knights, of undead and cultists. He along with his remaining surviving knights learned of Arthas's return and a gathering of armies at the shore, however Adaron and his companions had been in the field for far too long and were being recalled for rest. The main army of Lordaeron had been called in by this time and he was ordered home and would return with the army of Ironforge soon. Other Knights of the Order including Uther himself were being sent to meet Arthas and take him in. As Adaron and his fellow dwarven knights began their journey home to Khoz Modan for a bit of recuperation. A messenger caught up with them at South shore jumping onto the boat just as it was leaving, out of breath and exhausted the messenger flung the letter at the dwarves and collapsed on the deck of the ship. The message informed them of Uther's Death and the fall of capital Lordaeron at the hands of Arthas, it spoke of the defeat of the main army and the annihilation of the other paladins at the hands of the Scrouge. It ordered all paladins to return to either Ironforge or Stormwind and regroup and that the lands of Lordaeron were lost.... A new dawn. With the Order of the Silver Hand is disarray after the fall of Uther at the hands of Arthas, the order splintered into different factions; the Scarlet Crusade a new order of zealots focused on retaking Lordaeron from the undead. Others remained in the disorganized Order of Silver Hand. Others still created a new order one called the Argent Dawn which would work with the all races in order to combat the undead threat including the undead themselves. Seeing the disarray the Order of the Silver Hand was in and the levels of humans and dwarves leaving, Adaron decided to leave the order and return home to Thelsamar. It was a hard decision to make but he felt he should be home in Thelsamar if something to were attack instead of off in some Human realm fighting their battles. The war against the undead had changed Adaron, he was no longer the bright eyed warrior of light seeking glory and fame. Instead he was a somber warrior that had seen his share of horrors and wanted to protect what he had. His focus had changed, he knew now what he should be doing. Home and family. Upon returning to Thelsamar he visited his mother, and the grave of his father to pay his respects. His cousin Dungra he learned was off adventuring trying to gain fame, coin and a wife. He had learned that Dungra had left the army on his own terms after the battle of Mount Hyjal. Although much older then Adaron, Dungra was like a brother to him, having been around since he was young. He decided he would set his path anew and try and find his cousin out in the world. He would help those in need and try and make a name for himself as well as try and find a wife and start the family his father always wanted. "Sometimes the road splits..and sometimes those splits come together again..other times you cut through the pines, to forge your own path and say to hell with roads..." Descriptions Personality Description A bit of a quite dwarf, Adaron prefers to listen more then speak but will share his opinion even if not prompted. He can be a bit of a grumbler and mutters his frustration under his breath when things are not going well for him. He is seen as kind and always willing to lend a hand to anyone in need. He does however hold grudges against those of the Wildhammer and Dark Iron clans and is distrustful of them, unless convinced otherwise due to the devastation of his clan by these "kinsmen" during the War of Three Hammers. Always looking to learn something new he is fond of stories and always wants to learn more from others. He is always looking for adventure and will jump at any chance to explore or vanquish enemies of Khoz Modan. Adaron does however have flaws and feels his people are losing their relevance in the world having been pushed aside by some of the other races such as humans and elves. This sometimes creates tension between himself and non-dwarfs. He can be a bit of a complainer and will hold grudges against those who slight him or his clans honor. Like many dwarves he does like his ale, and will often drink heavily when the occasion calls for it. Physical Description A stout dwarf reaching the end of middle age, Adaron Wokenstone is of a medium height and weight for a dwarf. He has tanned hairy skin from many hours in the sun atop the hills of Loch Modan. A bright orange beard with streaks of white and a set of long mustaches cover his chest and barrel of a belly. His orange hair is long and kept in a pony tail in the style of his father, as he believes it brings him good luck. Determined eyes of dark brown peer out from bushy eyebrows. His soft rumble of a voice calms those around him as he often tells stories around a mug of ale. Worn chain mail with several links missing covers his body along with second hand equipment passed down from his clan. An old tabard of the Silver Hand decorates his armor and seems the newest piece of clothing he owns. An Herb pouch filled with plants and a well used alchemy set are kept at his side always, a reminder of home. A set of large books are chained to his belt, one a book of prayers, the second his journal in which keeps track of his adventure as well as any grudges he has acquired. At his belt is kept a large tankard given to him by his cousin Dungra a gift upon his elevation to the rank of Paladin. His cloak is of a dark violet but practical will keep him warm in the snows of Don Morogh. A polished white circle shield on his back as large a moon covering most of his body. A large warhammer carried in his hands reforged from the broken pieces of his late fathers weapon. Small dwarven runes ordain much of his Clan Wokenstone armor and clothing. Ancestor faces and hammers of tarnished gold and bronze ordain his belt and gauntlets.' '' ''Items of Importance '' '''Storm-Shatter - The shattered hammer carried by his father Dordel which has been reforged by his uncle into a weapon worthy of a paladin. Winters-Moon - A steel shield polished white as snow forged by his great grandfather. Tankard named Treatment - A Large dwarven Tankard for dwarven ale gifted to him by his cousin Dungra Grumblebuckle jokingly as the cure to any ailment. Tome of Grudges - A large book carried at the belt of Adaron, within it reads the grudges he has against specific enemies that have wronged him or his friends. Journal - https://grobbulus.org/?whois=436 Player Information (OOC) I'am new to RP will make mistakes, I'am always looking to learn so please give advice if willing OOC =/= IC, first and foremost. I'am Adaron Wokenstone in the Grobbulus discord. For contact purposes. I enjoy walk-ups so please engage if you wish to. I will be IC while questing somewhat Image Sources: https://www.artstation.com/remko https://www.gallerygerard.com/ '''' Category:Dwarf Category:Paladin Category:Alliance